


the world has burned (hiatus)

by eunbinatozaki



Category: GFriend, TWICE - Fandom
Genre: F/F, Zombie AU, but for now twicefriend are the mains in this, other groups will appear at random, plus a lot of pov chapters so everyone can develop and grow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2019-01-25 23:49:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12544048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eunbinatozaki/pseuds/eunbinatozaki
Summary: or, everything turns upside and everyone must adapt in their own ways.zombie au





	1. there's no one else (mina)

**Author's Note:**

> i should not be posting another story but i've been rewatching so much of twd & ftwd and things just happen. so enjoy! (?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mina wishes that she thought of everything more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> // twitter: @chuuniversai

its been a month since the outbreak hit and mina still isn’t used to it.  
  


* * *

  
she remembers the day everything just seemed to abruptly stand still, as if the world was suddenly put on pause and then, all at once, just instantly in eight-times fast forward, all a blur and a mess of garbled, high-pitched voices melting over each other.

she remembers being at the small, family-owned grocery store, cart full of the junk food that chaeyoung had sneakily added to her shopping list moments before she left their apartment for a last minute food run, a smile on her face and a laugh in her voice as she reminded mina to _bring everything i wrote down, you can never have too much!_ and at the time, mina had thought nothing of it, just shook her head with a fond smile and chalked it up to chaeyoung just being chaeyoung: full of jokes and so carefree of everything else.

oh, how she wished she had thought more of it. maybe, just maybe, somehow, the worlds would have aligned and things could have been different.

mina can still recall the blare of the sirens as police cars and ambulances suddenly zoomed past the grocery store, the sounds a stark contrast to the serene quiet that came with being in a store at one in the morning. she remembers the shock that colored the cashiers face, the way their hands slowed as they scanned her items, eyes trained outside as more and more passed. she remembers the look they gave her, as if they wanted to tell her to stay in, but kept quiet anyway, handing over her bags with a curt nod before following her to the door and locking it behind her without a word.

she remembers looking back briefly as she made her way to her car, remembers seeing them push a few shelves toward the windows and turn off the lights, as if they knew something was in fact coming, but thinks nothing of it, too.

she wishes she would have thought more of that, as well.

the streets were empty as she drove home, cars parked haphazardly on the sides, some with doors open and others with headlights still on. she remembers seeing houses with lights completely off, ones she has seen lite up at all hours of the day before, as if no one has ever stepped foot inside. mina grips her steering wheel tighter, knuckles white from her strong grip and she forces herself to believe that it’s okay, that maybe they’re just on vacation and that nothing is wrong and nothing is worth worrying about.

mina stepped harder on the gas anyway, desperate to get home, desperate to make sure that it really was nothing.

when she got back to the apartment, she forgoes taking the groceries in with her, deciding that if something really is wrong, she can get them later on after everything calms down. right then, her only concern was getting inside and making sure she and chaeyoung got through the night together and without driving themselves mad with worry. she remembers her hands shaking as she tried to open the door, her own over-thinking mind working against her nerves and she grits her teeth, berates herself for being so frenzied over nothing, and pushes the door open when she finally fits the key into the lock, the door banging against the wall behind it, announcing her presence with a bang.

the first thing that is apparent to mina is that the apartment is empty. usually when she makes these late-night runs, chaeyoung is normally stationed on the couch as she awaits her return, some old movie playing on the tv and water color paint set in front of her. she’ll help mina bring the bags in and help her put everything away before cleaning her mess up and then heading to her own room with a sleepy smile. but now, the tv is off and her paint set remains untouched in the corner, no one is offering to grab the bags from the car for her or begrudgingly asking her for help to put something on a higher shelf.

when mina had checked chaeyoung’s room, everything was a mess. the bed was stripped and her closet was wide open, a few clothes missing and two pairs of shoes gone. the backpack mina had given her for her birthday was gone, as was the matching duffle bag that came with it. she tries not to think the worst about it, tries to think that, maybe, chaeyoung just went out for a minute or went to out to a friends and accidentally forgot to tell mina about it. she had tried to call chaeyoung as she searched the rest of the apartment, her worries only growing as the call kept ringing in her ears, until she got so frustrated that she just threw her phone to the floor after the fifth time of no answer.

mina had gone into her room then, determined to get to the bottom of this somehow, then stops when she sees the state of her own room. the baseball bat she kept by her bed is gone (“ _we’re two girls living alone in the city, chae – my dad wants us to be able to protect ourselves”_ ) and the picture of she and chaeyoung on the of the day of their move in has been ripped in half, only the half with chaeyoung’s face remaining, frantically stuck to her vanity mirror with a piece of half-assed chewed gum and a sticky note beside it.

mina ignored the grossness of the gum and pulls the picture down, her fingers worrying the edges of the photo. because, now, maybe she _should_ think the worst, because it’s obvious that chaeyoung is gone, and mina doesn’t know what to make of it. was chaeyoung tired of being her roommate and she just decided to leave with no word or warning? mina supposes that, sure, sometimes, she is a little too quiet and she rarely goes out with chaeyoung when the girl offers her a place at whatever party she’s going to that night, but they had grown closer over their three year-span together – or so she thought. she had grown to care for the younger girl, more than she believed she was going to, and now, it seems like it’s all over.

mina had debated throwing the photo out then, just throwing away every aspect of chaeyoung and going on with her life. but she couldn’t, she isn’t that cruel or mean to forget someone so easily. instead, she slips the photo into her back pocket, reminds herself to think of it later, and pulls the sticky note from the mirror. the words on the paper are messy, as if they were written frantically and without hesitation,

_i knew this was coming and i’m sorry i didn’t tell you before. i’ll find you again, promise._

mina wishes she really had thought more of everything.  
  


* * *

  
mina stares at the photo in her hands now. the edges are split, discolored from the dirt and grime she’s been subjected to over the last few weeks, the once vibrant colors of the photo a subdued mix of grays and whites. she slips the photo back into her sock, making sure it’s secure before she’s pulling the same sticky note from all those weeks ago from her backpack, fingers tracing over the worn letters with a frown curling onto her lips. 

“i’ll find you again,” she mumbles, voice bitter and cracking from days of disuse, and shoves the note back into her bag again, not caring at the moment if it rips. she knows she’ll care if its ruined later because it’s one of the two things she has left with memories attached, but right now, she can’t be bothered. chaeyoung _promised_ she’d find her again, as if she knew where mina would be, but it’s been a month and nothing. mina had stayed in their apartment for days just waiting to see if the younger girl would show back up, burst into the room and spew apology after apology about not waiting, about not warning her of what was to come, but it never happened. mina waited and waited, holed herself up until her food ran low and the sounds from outside got too close for comfort. and a week after she found chaeyoung gone, mina packed up her own things, made sure to grab the picture and the note, and set out on her own.

it’s been a month since that day, three of which she’s been fending for herself, two of which she’s decided that she doesn’t need chaeyoung anymore. she’s steeled herself against the outside world now. she no longer flinches at the sounds she hears as she’s sneaking through desolate towns, the groans and the whispers of other lost souls falling on deaf ears. she doesn’t close her eyes anymore as she smashes a sledgehammer into the head of a dead-eyed walker, doesn’t even bat an eye when she’s forced to use a knife on someone fighting for their life just like she is. a month ago the world changed, and three weeks ago mina was forced to change with it, chaeyoung be damned.

(she ignores the thought in the back of her head, the little voice telling her that even if she’s doing fine on her own, it’s still lonely.

ignores the way the voice that reminds her that even though she says she doesn’t need chaeyoung, she still left a note of her own in hopes that she did come back, a _follow the signs, you’ll find me_ stuck to the front door in her haste to leave.

ignores anything and everything.)

she stands from the dirty floor of the pharmacy she’s been stationed in for the past four days, slings her bag over her shoulder and pushes open the front doors without hesitation, set on making it to the city she had marked on her map last night, determined to make it another day after already making it for so long. she stares at the walker stuck in the fence surrounding the building, looks it in the eye as it reaches for her and curls her lip at the sound of her knife sinking into its right eye, her moves mechanic as she twists and pulls, carves a “mm” into the bit of skin left on its cheek and wipes the blood from the knife on the torn shirt of the now life-less corpse and sets out on her way.

mina wishes she had thought more of everything, wishes the worlds had aligned. but she didn’t and they didn’t, and now she has to deal.

mina was always good at adapting.


	2. red light, green light (sowon, jihyo)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> or, where sojung is red, jihyo is green & there is no in between as jihyo takes some matters into her own hands.

sojung rests back against the wall, brown eyes dark and searching for a moment before she looks down, fingers curled tight around the hilt of an axe she’d found three days ago stuck into the side of a tree, blood still dripping from the head and a body laid out beside it. she’d taken it without a second thought, didn’t answer the questioning looks nayeon and jihyo gave her, only took off the bat she carried, put the axe in its place, then kept going. she wipes at the head now, slightly marvels at how _clean_ it looks now compared to before – as if it was brand new, just waiting to be used. it’s amazing, really, how little this gets to her now.

“got a minute, captain?”

sojung glances over at jihyo’s voice, watches as the younger girl falls into the empty spot beside her. she looks restless, sojung notes, reminding herself to talk to nayeon about that, to tell her to keep jihyo down when they’ve finally stopped. sojung understands jihyo though, understands the need to keep moving, to keep going forward until you can’t go forward anymore, until you’re forced to stop. she’s watched jihyo stay up well into the next day, pouring over maps trying to find the next best location. she’s watched her run into an unsecure building time and time again, even after sojung told them to just _wait a minute, let me check first_ , wide-eyed and hoping to find someone who can help them. over time, sojung has realized jihyo doesn’t know what wait means. she only knows how to go. she only knows that there is no end to this, so she has to keep going.

but if jihyo has to keep going, then sojung has to be the one to stop. she’s the one who forces their small group to stop in certain towns, deadset on sleeping for a few nights. she’s the one who forces the others to stop running, to fight first and ask later, because it’s their lives or the outsiders and she refuses to lose any of her own. she’s the one who stays up while everyone sleeps, even jihyo eventually, and watches over them all, stopping every threat that tries to come their way in the dead of night.

if jihyo is green, bright and vibrant and always _go go go_ , then sojung is red, controlled and resolute and _stopped_.

sojung places her axe across her lap, watches the way jihyo stares at the weapon, watches the hesitation in her eyes. jihyo doesn’t kill, never has since sojung met her. she doesn’t question it, doesn’t ask nayeon whose been with her since the start, just doesn’t have the heart for it, she supposes. she moves the axe from her lap and places it beside her from the younger girls view, fingers itching to pick it back up because she needs the protection, the assurance that if something happens, she can handle it, but she leaves it where it is regardless.

“we have to stay here another few days,” sojung eventually says, voice leveled and words succinct. jihyo stiffens, shoulders pulled taut and eyes straight ahead and sojung knows she’s been caught out. while they usually do take the time to talk to one another, lately their conversations have been watered down solely to jihyo trying to convince sojung that they need to go to a new town every single day, that they need to keep going until they find whatever she’s looking for. it always ends in heated glares and tense air, sojung stern in her words of staying, jihyo only agreeing after minutes of prolonged silence.

jihyo never puts up a fight with her, never tries to truly fight against her words. because, while jihyo feels she could do well with leading everyone to a better place, she can never put forth the strong front that sojung does. jihyo is emotional, she feels with everyone else and wants to do her best to make them all accommodated, whereas sojung thrives for them all to just _survive_.

(she remembers the day their then five membered group were assigning positions, sojung herself, then just as scared but hopeful as jihyo is today, had offered up jihyo as their leader. had said that jihyo could do it, that jihyo could help them all, that jihyo was the strongest and could handle it.

it was only thirty-five minutes later when sojung had pushed jihyo aside when she froze as one of _them_ attacked, smashed a rock into its head over and over and over until the garbled groans finally stopped, until her shirt was colored a disgusting dark red, that jihyo pulled nayeon aside, fear in her eyes, and whispered, _i want sojung to be it_.)

jihyo opens her mouth, as if she’s going to refute her statement, eyes determined despite the tenseness of her body, but sojung just shakes her head, grabs her axe, and stands with a tired groan. she slots the axe into the holder attached to her hip and glances down at the younger girl who’s still staring at her, a bandaged hand reaching out to gently, albeit hesitantly, pat the top of jihyo’s head. “we have to stay, hyo, it’s the safest right now. i’m sorry.”

then she’s off, leaving jihyo behind, head hanging low and fists clenched tight in her lap.  
  


* * *

  
when jihyo finally moves from the spot sojung left her in, the sun has finally gone down, the air now cool compared to the sweltering heat they’ve had to be in all day. she moves through their current base camp, an old abandoned green house that nayeon had found on one of her scouting missions, and regrets the decision she made to stay here.

she appreciates the fact that they’re all working to make this place more home-like, because they don’t know how long they’ll be stationary this time. it’s been a week now, seven days to the T, and jihyo feels like it’s been six days too long. she believes they’re not safe here, even if the glass windows are all boarded up and that someone is always on watch. she wants to go, wants to find somewhere better, safer, somewhere they can find help.

she finds herself near nayeon and sana on her rounds, watches the way the two avoid eye contact with each other as they work on rationing out their food for the week. the two have been at odds with one another for the past few days, only speaking to each other in short, clipped sentences, and anything spoken longer between the two become hushed angry arguments when they think no one is listening. jihyo makes it her business not to pry, because nayeon may be her best friend and she may care about sana’s own well-being, but the world has practically ended and she believes there are slightly more important things to handle then a tense interaction between two of their own. instead, she taps nayeon’s shoulder as she passes, head nodding toward the far side of the camp and makes a pointed glance toward their rations before she’s going without another word.

(if she’d paid attention, maybe she would have seen the look sana gave nayeon before the older girl rushed off without explanation.)

\---

jihyo’s standing with her back against the boards, arms crossed over her chest and frown on her face when nayeon finds her ten minutes later. the older girl skips the pleasantries as she drops a bag filled with a few cans of beans, two packs of crackers, a few rolls of bandages, some disinfectant, and three bottles of water beside jihyo’s feet with a sigh, then, “jihyo, you can’t keep doing this. people are starting to notice – _sana_ noticed, you should be glad she hasn’t said anything to sojung.”

jihyo knows she’s asking a lot, getting nayeon to sneak things to her when no one is around, but she knows, deep in her heart and mind, that she’s doing the right thing. no one else may think so, not even nayeon, but jihyo knows.

she says as much and nayeon sighs, tired of hearing the same spiel over and over each time they do this. she tells jihyo this is the last time and jihyo nods with a placating smile because they both know it isn’t, not yet, and then the younger girl is slinging the bag over her shoulder, pulling aside a few of the loose boards and slipping through the broken window with ease, a smile thrown over her shoulder as she runs into the night.

nayeon watches her for a moment before she fits the boards back into place, making a note to come back in forty-five minutes to let jihyo back in. just like last time.

\---

jihyo’s out of breath by time she’s done running, chest heaving as she breaks from the woods and onto the open stretch of road, shoulder aching from the weight of the bag fighting against her non-stop sprint. she wipes at the sweat on her forehead, ignores the need to stop and heads toward the white house just up the road, bypassing the boarded up front door completely and straight for the shed that sits in the back yard.

there’s a single light from a candle in the window as jihyo walks up, and when she accidentally kicks against a paint can that’s been left out in the overgrown grass, the light goes out quickly. jihyo knocks at the door, waits and listens, then slowly eases open the door as she hears no response. moonlight floods into the shed, bathing everything in a white light that looks far too pure for their surroundings and she holds her hands up at the gun that’s pointed directly at her face.

the gun stays there for a moment and jihyo waits. she doesn’t try to force herself in or try to back out, just waits. eventually, the gun lowers and jihyo steps in when she deems it safe enough, placing the bag down beside them without a word, only motioning for them to go ahead. they say nothing, as usual when they do have these little interactions, and jihyo is okay with that. she just likes that she’s helping for once, that her hope finally paid off and that she was able to actually do some good.

she sits beside them and gingerly reaches into the bag, pulls out a roll of bandages and the disinfectant, holding them up. “i got these for you. your arm is only going to get worse if you don’t take care of it. you’ve already got a broken leg to worry about, don’t add more on.” they grunt and jihyo nods, reaching out to gingerly peel back the old, bloodied bandage that’s wrapped around their arm. they make no sound even though jihyo knows it stings when she pours the disinfectant onto the wound, don’t even flinch as she rewraps it. they just take it all without a word or glance in her direction, eyes set outside.

“i tried to talk my group into moving spots, somewhere better, somewhere we can get more supplies easier to help us and you.” she knows she’s basically talking to a wall at this point, but it doesn’t matter, she needs to get it out. “but they say we’re safe there, that it’s okay. and i know you don’t want to come back with me, you want to stay alone, but you need proper help that i can’t give right now.” there’s no response and jihyo sighs, knows that they won’t say any more than they did since the day she met them hobbling about in the woods a week ago. the most she can do, now, is continue on as she is. bring what she can, help how she can. and, whenever they finally do move, hope she can bring them along and get them more than what she is now.

jihyo stands and grabs the now empty bag, watches as they organize the items on the floor beside the cover they’re laying on, and nods once again.

“if we’re still here, i’ll be back in a few days to check on you.”

again, nothing, and jihyo moves to the door, glancing over her shoulder just before she closes it, “don’t worry, i’ll help you as much as i can, chaeyoung.”

as she walks back toward the road, the candle light shows back up in the window.  
  


* * *

  
sojung watches from her perch atop the greenhouse roof as jihyo reappears from the woods, her eyes following every movement jihyo makes until she’s back inside, until she can hear her voice echoing below as she converses with the others.

she doesn’t know exactly where jihyo goes on the days she ventures out of the camp, doesn’t dare follow and doesn’t allow anyone to question her when they notice she’s gone either. she knows that jihyo is doing something none of them would particularly agree on, has seen the extra missing items when she does her counts, has seen the guilty looks nayeon gives her whenever they catch eyes and the knowing ones sana gives after jihyo returns.

she knows that, no matter what, jihyo will do what she deems is right, and all sojung can do is make sure the girl doesn’t hurt them all in the process. she just hopes the girl knows what she’s doing.

she may be a stand-still, and jihyo may be an ever moving bullet, but she knows they can no longer dance along the in-between of their two points.

this has to end.


	3. stay still, stay peaceful (yerin) [pt. 1]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> or, yerin reflects and makes a decision.

yerin glances up at the sound of the roof’s hatch opening, a hand lifting to shield her eyes from the rays of the sun as a figure slowly makes their way down the ladder. when they’ve hopped down to the ground beside her, yerin moves to stand from the floor, but a hand on her shoulder stops her. there’s a gentle squeeze, a quiet but familiar _just stay still for once, yerin_ , and then all yerin can see is sojung’s back as she walks away without another word.

yerin knows that as their group leader, sojung has a heavy burden to bear. she has to deal with multiple strong individuals who each bring their own color to their group, and when it becomes too much, it’s chaos. there have been threats, riots, outsiders who tried to break in, fights amont their own. she can’t count the number of times she’s had to watch sojung break up fights between the other survivors whenever tensions ran too high (she can still remember the ugly bruise nayeon sported on her jaw for two weeks after she got on the wrong end of sojung’s backswing when she was pushed just a _little_ too far after she found out one of their own had been dealing with outsiders – nayeon forgave her because she knew it was an accident, but yerin still believes that nayeon is just a bit scared of a stressed sojung).

but yerin also knows sojung beyond what this catastrophe has made her. she’s known the older girl since she was ten and moved into the house four doors down. sojung had been eleven and blossoming into what every adult around them deemed a “respectable young lady” and yerin admired the girl. she was pretty, funny, smart, kind, and loyal to a fault, all the way up until everything changed. and despite all that, despite the whispers she sometimes hears during her rounds after a tough decision has been called and the air around their camp is thick with tension, she knows sojung is still the same as she was when they were kids. she’s just a little harder around the edges, just a little tenser in the shoulders, a little more solemn when she thinks about the fact that she has to lead this group and keep them all safe.

yerin knows it’s hard, but sojung never allows her to worry over her. she always tells yerin to _stay still_ , to _stay close to me_ , to _just wait, i’ll handle it_ , and yerin gets it, she does. sojung had been the one to pull yerin away from the disaster that was their apartment three days after it happened. their building had been put on lockdown, police coming through and telling them no one was allowed in or out, that they would come get them when it was safe, and yerin was scared. sojung was too, she could tell, but she put on a brave face and constantly told yerin that she’d handle it, that they’d be okay. two days came and went and the police never came back, and yerin could tell that sojung was antsy, was just as worried about the fact that no one came for them yet. on the morning of the third day, sojung snuck out of the apartment window while yerin was asleep, and by time she was waking up, sojung was shoving a bag into her arms and pulling her out the same window with no explanation other than _stay close to me_.

so yerin gets it. she gets sojung’s need to not let her worry. because sojung has been worrying enough for the both of them since the day she snuck out the window and saw what she did. of course, yerin would soon find out the life that awaited her outside their apartment, but she still gets sojung’s need to do what she does. she’s essentially been taking care of yerin since they were young and it’s a hard habit to break, but yerin just wishes that, sometimes, sojung would share some of the weight before it breaks her shoulders completely.

yerin finally stands from the floor with a grunt, the bandages from her thigh to calf scratching harshly at her skin as she finally stretches her muscles again after sitting for so long. sojung had been on the roof for two hours and yerin had been waiting below the whole time, unable to climb because the strain on the descent back down would be too pressure on her leg. she wanted to go up with her, to talk and figure out why she goes to the one place yerin can’t follow, but she knows it’s her own fault that she can’t, that the one time sojung said to stay and she didn’t listen would be her downfall.

(“yerin, stop! yerin – _stay still_!” sojung demands with a hard press to yerin’s chest as the girl tries to move again, tries to run around sojung and back to their place. they can’t let it be taken over, they can’t let their hard work just be taken from them. everything else had already gone to shit, but this can’t. this is their _home_.

yerin makes to move again but another push presses her back against the corner of the brick wall their hiding against and she’s too stubborn to look at sojung now, too mad that she seems to be the only one who cares about this, too everything all at once. sojung notices becauce even though her actions are rough, her words are soft, “yerin, we can’t go back in there. it’s gone now.”

she grinds her teeth at that, and for the first time in her life, she wants to hit sojung. because the older girl doesn’t get it. ever since this thing had started, it’s been just the two of them. they’ve fended for themselves. they’ve found everything they needed. they even found a place to call home for the time being, something they haven’t truly had in months, and sojung is just willing to give it away without a fight. but yerin isn’t, she can’t. it’s the only semblance of normalcy she has in all this mess and she can’t let it just be taken away, sojung warnings be damned.

she slaps at sojung’s hands, growls out _stop telling me what to do!_ between the emotion that’s clogging in her throat and uses sojung’s surprise at her retaliation to push past her, grab the bat the older girl had dropped when they first took cover, and runs toward the little rundown art shop they had called their own. she ignores the frantic whisper-shouts of her name from sojung, ignores the warning call someone yells out, ignores anything and everything as she barrels towards what’s _theirs_.

she makes it three-fourths of the way there before her leg gives out, a smattering of bullets breaking her skin, digging into the muscle, shredding tendons.

she blacks out when the pain becomes too much, when sojung’s screams become too much.)

sojung never told her how they got out of it. all she knows is that when she woke up, it was four days later, her leg was wrapped (she was later told that it’d never be the same again, basically just dead weight), and sojung was suddenly quieter than she had ever been since yerin had first met her, a far off look in her eyes and a demand that if yerin wanted to stay with her, she’d have to listen to everything she said, no ifs ands or buts. yerin agreed because she needs sojung. and as much as the older girl might not want to admit it, she needs yerin, too. she needs that reminder of what she _was_ , not who she was forced to be after that day.

she grabs her crutch from the wall beside her with a sigh and glances over the railing to the camp below, watches the way jihyo crawls back in from outside through the loose boards, watches how she looks around before she hides a bag behind a few empty crates, glancing around again before sprinting off toward the front of the base.

she watches how, almost a few moments later, sojung walks up to the same spot and pulls out the bag, shoulders instantly slumping in defeat before she stalks away.

\--

yerin finds sojung later, laid out across her bed with that same bag she saw earlier across her lap, a look yerin can’t quite read on her face. she sets her crutch aside and clears her throat as she limps over to sojung and carefully falls into place beside her, knocking her shoulder into the older girl’s once. “look at that, i can make it a full five steps without the crutch – maybe i am actually getting better.”

sojung doesn’t react, doesn’t smile and give yerin her usual _don’t joke around, use the crutch_ speech that she spouts every time she sees yerin moving on her own, doesn’t even so much as flinch when yerin knocks her shoulder again. she just keeps staring at that bag as if it has all the answers to the universe etched into its stitching, as if it could solve each and every one of her last problems. and yerin doesn’t get it. it’s just some bag jihyo hid, something that maybe she found and wanted to keep for herself so she hid it so it wouldn’t get added to their inventory stock. and maybe sojung could be mad at that, that one of their own is hiding things for themselves, but she knows it isn’t that. it has to be more.

“sojungie?” yerin questions after they’ve hit the six minute mark on total silence, her hand reaching out to grab sojung’s, to maybe pull her back into this moment, into reality and out of whatever tripped out state of mind she’s in. except, sojung finally moves, only to pull away from yerin’s touch, to distance herself from the younger girl. she never does that. even on her worst days, sojung never turns yerin away, because yerin is the one she needs close to keep her sane. yerin is the one who knows her ins and outs, what can bring her up when she’s down and vice versa. yerin knows sojung. and yerin knows that for sojung to pull away, it must be something big. she swallows back the slight tinge of hurt she feels at that and reaches for the girl again, “sojung, talk to me. what’s up?”

sojung pulls away again, this time with more purpose, this time like she means it, and yerin freezes. because now sojung looks at her, and instead of the tired but kind eyes she’s used to, she’s met with anger, cold and directed solely at _her_. yerin opens her mouth to speak, to apologize, to do something, but nothing comes out, so she clamps it shut and busies herself with standing from the cot, upset and embarrassed.

she grunts as she limps back toward the exit, eyes stinging once she realizes that sojung didn’t call for her and remind her to use her crutch.

\--

yerin stumbles into the wall just outside of the entrance to the sleeping quarters, a harsh breath passing through her lips as she slumps against the wall, hands gripping at her leg as it throbs from the excessive pressure she’s put on it. she’s tired of this stopping her. she’s tired of having to stay because she can never go for more than two minutes. she’s tired of being the punching bag whenever sojung is too far gone. yerin is just tired.  

she hears the quick sound of feet against the floor before she’s suddenly wrapped up in someone’s arms, her weight being transferred to them as they guide her out of the hall and to a set of chairs to help her sit down. yerin isn’t surprised when she glances and sees jihyo kneeling before her, careful hands gently massaging at parts of her leg, whisperings words of admonishments at her for not properly taking care of herself.

yerin wants to scoff, to push her away, because jihyo is the reason why everything is so tense now, but she can’t. because jihyo is still jihyo, the girl who cares too much and works so hard and yerin can’t fault her for things out of her control. so she sighs and pats jihyo’s hands to get her to stop, a quiet _thank you_ leaving her lips as she closes her eyes. she hears jihyo stand and move to the chair beside her, feels her touch her jaw before her head is being moved to the girl’s shoulder gently and yerin wants to scream. 

she’s tired of being babied. she’s tired of being the one everyone has to take care of all the time. she sighs and opens her eyes, staring straight ahead. “take me with you.” jihyo hums, quiet and confused, and yerin licks at her lips, swallowing hard against her suddenly dry throat. “wherever you sneak off to, take me with you.”

jihyo stiffens briefly, less than a second before she’s relaxed again, and yerin almost believes she didn’t even hear her well enough to react. yerin waits for her to say no, waits for to say something about telling sojung, but then jihyo just nods instead. doesn’t say anything, doesn’t offer up any arguments as to why she shouldn’t, just hums again then nods.

yerin rubs at a numb part of her leg harshly, “good, i’m tired of staying still.”


End file.
